


The pain he carries with him

by raggedyfangirl666



Series: Let us create better memories [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Have I mentioned LOTS OF ANGST?, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), Nightmares, post 6a, pre 6B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 18:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggedyfangirl666/pseuds/raggedyfangirl666
Summary: Stiles talks to Lydia about his mum for the very first time.





	The pain he carries with him

There weren't many topics that they didn't talk about. Everything from science to hopes and dreams they had discussed in depth and had many times found themselves kindly debating about. Stiles knew every sport and activity Lydia had asked her parents to sign her up to from the moment she learnt how to speak: chess, swimming, dancing classes, figure skating, book class, art class, and on and on the list went. Lydia knew every detail of every embarrassing story Stiles had to tell about when he and Scott were younger: staying up late on Christmas to try to catch Santa, doing the same for the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, long talks and heated arguments about pokemons and digimons and video games, endless marathons of Star Wars and Indiana Jones and horror films. There was one thing she had never asked him about, though... she wanted to, whenever he mentioned his dad or his childhood, but never dared... she didn't know how he would react... would he cry? change the topic immediately? open up? Because, to Lydia, almost everything related to Claudia Stilinski, was a mystery. She knew that she had died when Stiles was young and that he missed her. She knew that on the days near her death anniversary, the boy would behave a little more guarded than usual, a little less excited and more anxious. She knew it hurt him, still, and that he loved her despite the amount of time that had gone by.

One night she had a nightmare about the day they had got him back from the wild hunt. She woke up gasping for air and looking for him in the dark. He was right there, awake the second she called his name in a desperate whisper. He held her and stroked her back while reassuring her that he wasn't going anywhere as she cried quietly on his shoulder. He kissed her head and pressed her palm against his chest so that she could feel his heart.

Lydia knew he was in pain too, no matter how hard he tried to hide it: it was clear to her from his paleness and the nights she woke up to _his_ nightmares. For being taken, for having lost three months of his life, for seeing her in pain and from the still fresh memories of the monster that had taken his mother's face, he still suffered.

"Tell me about her." She said once her breathing was steadier. She didn't need to clarify who she was talking about, she imagined he had been dreaming about her a few moments ago.

"What do you want to know?" His voice was soft, inviting. 

_Everything. Anything._

"What was she like?" The palm of her hand was still against his chest and she felt the way his heartbeat accelerated.

"Amazing. She was the best mum anyone could ever ask for." Lydia closed her eyes at the sweetness in his voice. "She had this gift for lifting people's moods up. She was always making jokes and smiling and she was so smart. She loved learning. Her books used to be everywhere, even in the middle of the backyard. God, you would have loved talking to her."

"Did she go to college?"

"Yeah, majored in Art, then taught for a while at our school. She loved her job. She would always tell my dad and I about her students and what she was teaching. She talked about techniques and stuff I couldn't understand but I found it _so_ fascinating."

"Is the picture on your hall hers? The one with the butterflies?"

"Yes." He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, sadder. "It was the last painting she did before..."

Lydia sat up from where she was half-laying on top of him. Their eyes met and his were so full of sadness and sorrow and... guilt. She brushed her fingers against his cheek.  _Tell me. Let it out._

"Seeing that _thing_..." His eyes trailed down to her throat. "It was like going back to those last days when she was wasn't herself. When she wouldn't recognize me or, worse, when she would fear me because, in her mind, I was trying to hurt her."

His breathing had become more ragged and he was holding back tears. Lydia grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it.

"I... when you woke up just now, I was dreaming of her, the real her. It was a memory. She was in the kitchen cooking some healthy meal that my dad would complain about. Everything was so normal, until she lost her balance and she... fell. I remember going to the phone to call 911, like they had taught me to do in case something like that happened, and then trying to help her _up_." His voice broke in the last word. "But she wouldn't get up... she was screaming bloody murder and pushing me away every time I tried to get near her."  

"How old were you?" She asked softly, a part of her needing to know but also too afraid of the answer.

"Seven. Almost eight."

_Seven._ That wasn't right, it wasn't fair. She couldn't even begin to imagine the pain... 

She didn't know what to say, so Lydia hugged the boy tightly as he cried, like he had done earlier for her.

_I will listen whenever you need to talk about it. I want to. I want to make up for the time we lost being apart and for the pain you had to carry on your own all this time._

_You are not alone._ That's what she tried to tell him through her embrace.  _I'm here. I will always be here._

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading! Please comment, I would love to hear your thoughts ♥
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if this felt a bit rushed, but I needed to get it out of my system before the week starts again


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